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About Glasgow

Little fact, eh? Victorian prossies used arsenic makeup—glowin’ green skin, deadly sexy. Killed ‘em slow, tho. Imagine that—bangin’ a corpse-in-waitin’. Made me laugh, raspy an’ mad, “Heh, we likes the weird shit!” Surprised me, tho—thought they’d all be desperate. Nah, some got swagger, like Adam with his guitars.

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First off, I hit up the local café on Wey Hill. You know, the one with the best scones? Yeah, that one. I ordered a latte and a scone, thinking I’m all posh. But then, the barista—bless her heart—totally messed up my order. I got a flat white instead. Like, what even is a flat white? I’m not fancy enough for that! I was like, “Um, excuse me, I ordered a scone, not a flat tire!” She laughed, and I just rolled my eyes.

Last steam train passes through three signal boxes before they're decommissioned